


colchicum

by quillbox (pipecleanerFlowers)



Series: torn roots [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: After Party, F/F, Slow Dancing, dem 2.7 feelz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6161341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipecleanerFlowers/pseuds/quillbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yang never said to save the last dance, but the slow music starts and their hands find each other’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	colchicum

**Author's Note:**

> I really do hate myself.

“So? Did you have fun?” Yang asks as they step lazy circles across the empty dancefloor.

Blake smiles, tired and content. “Yeah. Surprisingly. I’m not really one for fancy parties.”

“Even ones with cool smoke machines and gigantic layered cakes planned by your awesome teammates?” Yang prods.

“I’ll admit the cake was delicious. And the smoke machine was… pretty cool.”

Team RWBY, minus Ruby (wherever she went), are still in the hall, Weiss insisting that they stay till the very end because they’re the ones who planned it. (Or maybe that was just her plan to talk to Neptune longer as they sweeped up the floors and bussed the dinnerware back to the kitchens.)

Yang, however, slipped herself out of the cleanup plans and straight into Blake’s arms with another dance invitation to celebrate the last song of a successful evening. And Blake figured, why not?

For the first time in a long time, she felt rested.

“So,” Yang speaks up again, adjusting her arms around Blake’s waist, “are you glad you came?”

Blake glances down, at their heeled feet where neither have stepped on each other’s toes just yet. “Yeah, I am.”

Yang grins, as bright as the sun. “Good!”

Their faces are so close that Blake feels like she’ll be burned from all the radiating energy Yang has even though it’s past midnight and by all accounts she should be drained from organizing and maintaining the party.

But she’s a fireball that never burns out, at least, when it comes to parties, and Blake finds herself smiling.

“Hey, think there’s any food joints open at this hour?” Yang asks suddenly “Weiss’ fancy hors d’oeuvres were totally not enough and I’m craving burgers.”

Blake shrugs, amused. “We could always find out.”


End file.
